These ain't no Guess jeans
I dropped out of school, I'm still good at math but nigga don't test me
I played to the left, they went to the right, they tried to finesse me
Still riding around with that blicky, I hope they don't catch me
Police had raided our spot, so we went to the next street
Play like I'm dumb, as soon as it pop, I'm going retarded
He say I'm hard, and he say I'm garbage, I'm rich regardless
We in Miami in the middle of the winter and we on them jet skis
If we in Atlanta, I'm runnin' the 'Cat, and I'm workin' the red key

I cannot mention my homies inside of my songs 'cause I know they be trappin' a lot
I can't keep taking these pills, when I'm in the trenches, they say I be cappin' a lot
I know a nigga who say he got rich off the dope, but I know he be actin' a lot
I know some niggas who say that they took down the city but niggas be lackin' a lot
Yeah, that shit was awful, nigga had that dog food
That day they shot you, I slid on the Mongoose
You cannot come back around me, you turned your back on me I cannot forget
The police was lying, they said that they caught you, but nigga they made you admit
Your name was fine, you put in that work, they took your stick, you a bitch
Fuck my opps, they be on my dick, they all be mad we rich (turn up)

Only twenty-five, living like a boss, ridin' 'round with a chauffeur
I don't sell drugs, still be paranoid, keep lookin' over my shoulder
Niggas lying like I'm stealing swag, but it's my shit like I wrote it

These rappers really nice as hell, I'm a different nigga when I'm pissed off
Man, he say he gon' press up on who?
I'ma get the steel like I'm Chris Paul
Back to back Suburbans, I'm a big dog
I was in the slums serving fentanyl
Zombie land, junkies having withdrawals
I been gettin' to a lot of missed calls
Turn it off, what the fuck is he talking about
I should slap him for saying he hot as me
I don't know who could fuck with me, honestly
And they know I'm the man so they watching me
Different color bands like Monopoly
Man, they must not be using his head
If he thinking I don't keep a Glock on me
That's like suicide if you play with us, got a better chance at the lottery
Call an ambulance when that chopper sweep
Make the crowd dance, choreography
Once I got a plan, ain't no stopping me
Three car garage, million dollar crib with a foreign bitch riding on top me
A lot of people done said I won't be shit, well I guess they owe me an apology

These ain't no Guess jeans
I dropped out of school, I'm still good at math but nigga don't test me
I played to the left, they went to the right, they tried to finesse me
Still riding around with that blicky, I hope they don't catch me
Police had raided our spot so we went to the next street
Play like I'm dumb, as soon as it pop, I'm going retarded
He say I'm hard, and he say I'm garbage, I'm rich regardless
We in Miami in the middle of the winter and we on them jet skis
If we in Atlanta, I'm runnin' the 'Cat, and I'm workin' the red key Writer/s: Dominique Jones, Durk D. Banks, Kenneth K Gilmore, Rahshan Kyles, Taurus Tremani Bartlett
Publisher: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
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